The Salem Witch Trials (Darker Version)
by MinteaFresha
Summary: I said I was going to make a sad version and I did.


Sherman was drawing at his desk in his room when he heard a faint knock on the door on the other side of the room. "Come in," Sherman said without looking up. He knew who it was, of course. Nobody else was in the penthouse today.

"Are you ready, Sherman?" a familiar voice rang out.

Sherman's face lit up and he turned in his chair to face Mr. Peabody. "Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot." He put his pencil down and joined Mr. Peabody on the way to the room where the WABAC machine was. Yesterday, Mr. Peabody told Sherman that they would be using the WABAC the next day. "Where to today?" Sherman asked.

"Salem, Massachusetts. 1692," Mr. Peabody replied. "An intriguing time of the Puritan pilgrims in colonial America."

Soon enough, Mr. Peabody and Sherman were traveling through time. They entered the home of Samuel Parris, a Village minister in Salem. Parris appeared to be looking for something underneath chairs, tables, beds, and other articles of furniture.

Mr. Peabody cleared his throat. "Mr. Parris, may I ask what it is you are looking for?"

Samuel Parris, in an attempt in turning around to answer, instead hit his head on the underside of a nightstand. "Ow!" He emerged from underneath the nightstand and, rubbing his head, stood and turned to find the dog and his boy standing before him. "I am looking for my daughter, Betty. Have you seen her?"

Sherman took the liberty to speak up. "Nope. What has she been doing? Maybe you're not looking in the right places."

"She just ate breakfast," Samuel informed them. "Then she just ran off who knows where!" He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Tsk tsk, she's getting quite jumpy these days."

Just then, six year-old Betty ran into the room and dove under a low coffee table. She moaned, "I've got a fever, Papa…!" Her father quickly switched from a perturbed countenance to a concerned one. Mr. Peabody went over to the little girl and felt her forehead. "Hmm, she doesn't seem to have a temperature…"

Samuel Parris gasped. "If she isn't naturally sick, then this must be the work of a witch!"

Sherman said, "Who could it be…?"

After thinking for a moment, Betty shrieked, "I KNOW! It could be Tituba, our slave. She always tells me stories about voodoo and witchcraft."

Samuel said, "Well what are we waiting for? Let's go see Tituba."

The foursome found Tituba in the kitchen, finishing up cleaning after the morning meal. "Hey, I see you got yourselves a dog..." She produced a pastry from behind her and waved it in front of Mr. Peabody's face. "Want this, doggie? Huh?"

Mr. Peabody pushed her hand away. "First of all, my name is Mr. Peabody. Secondly, I will not tolerate such treatment." Tituba dropped the small cake in surprise. Mr. Peabody eyed it in disgust. It looked like a week-old gourd that belonged in a compost heap. "What is _in that_, exactly?"

"Rye, butter, salt, eggs… the usual-" Tituba looked at Betty. "And urine..."

Sherman spluttered, "Did she say what I just heard her say?!"

Mr. Peabody smirked. "That all depends on what you heard."

Tituba explained that a cake containing the urine of a victim given to the dog would cure Betty.

"Utter nonsense," Samuel snorted. He pondered for a moment. "Wait a minute…" He accusingly pointed at Tituba. "You sound a lot like you are in on this… this SCHEME."

Tituba innocently put her hands up. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just trying to help the girl out."

Samuel's glare burned with confidence. "Aha! Denial. I smell a witch among us!" Samuel took Tituba by the wrist and dragged her out the front door, with Betty following after like a duckling after its mother.

"Where are they going, Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked.

"They're going to Town Hall, to have Tituba tried for witchcraft. We must waste no time!" Mr. Peabody believed in justice and he did not want to have anyone punished for the wrong reasons. Mr. Peabody and Sherman went after Samuel Parris to investigate the trial.

At the courthouse, Tituba stood before the judge, with Samuel and his daughter not far away. Other supposed "victims," of the same symptoms as Betty, stood close by as well.

Samuel offered his say. "This woman has managed witchcraft upon my child! She made my little Betty this way…" He motioned to Betty, who was crying from pain. "And she tried to undo it to cover her tracks… by using even more witchcraft!"

Sherman grimaced and blurted out, "But she didn't do anything!"

Everyone in the room (except for Mr. Peabody) looked at him, angrily. Mr. Peabody looked at him in shock. The room was silent.

Under his breath, Mr. Peabody said, with teeth clenched, "Sherman, this is a life-and-death situation. Do you know what they do to the people they prove as witches?"

"Not really…" Sherman slowly murmured back.

Suddenly, one of the bystanders broke the silence by shouting, "The witch's accomplice!" At that very moment, the whole room burst into chaos. Another person cried out, "And the dog is their messenger to the devil!"

Tituba, Mr. Peabody, and Sherman jolted into action and started running toward the door. Being closer to the exit, Mr. Peabody and Sherman made it out before the mob could catch them. Sadly, Tituba did not.

Out of breath, Sherman said, "We h-have... to rescue... Tituba!"

Mr. Peabody said, "Tomorrow morning, Tituba will be hanged, unless we stop them. We're going to have to stay for the night for any chance of saving her."

The two set up camp in the outskirts of the town. Mr. Peabody made a fire and then sat back to assess the events of their adventure so far. Sherman put his hands close to the fire to warm himself. His brow furrowed in troubled contemplation. The crackling of the fire and faint sounds of the forest filled the air.

After a long and solemn silence, Sherman said, "What are we going to do if we do get caught?"

Mr. Peabody was usually kind of annoyed when Sherman asked questions, because they were usually followed by simple answers. However, this time… this time was different. Mr. Peabody sighed. "We're going to… outwit the villagers. Like we always do." He smiled at Sherman, to keep the boy's hopes up.

"You mean, like _you_ always do," Sherman said.

"Right…" Mr. Peabody said quietly. No one said anything after that.

Mr. Peabody got some emergency rations from the WABAC, which was parked nearby. Once both of them had had their fill, they settled down and slept under the stars.

"Good night, Mr. Peabody," Sherman said, as he closed his eyes.

Mr. Peabody closed his eyes, too. "Good night."

* * *

In the morning, Mr. Peabody and Sherman woke up with the sun. They picked up camp and prepared for their rescue mission.

Mr. Peabody lectured, "Now, Sherman, if we show our faces, we are sure to get caught. I want you to be very careful. I don't want to lose you." Sherman nodded in understanding.

They found the gallows, in a clearing in the woods. The same crowd from yesterday was there, and some other new entertainment-seekers as well. "Hang the witch! Hang the witch!" they chanted.

Sherman gasped. He whispered, "Mr. Peabody, I don't wanna go out there. I'm scared."

"I know," Mr. Peabody said in a hushed, calm voice. "Me too. But I'm not letting that stand in the way of saving a life-" Here, his tone became firm. "-and neither are you."

They skulked around the site, to the area behind the gallows. "Stay put here," Mr. Peabody told Sherman. "This is too dangerous for you." He sprinted to the platform, which Tituba stood upon. A noose was tied around her neck and her head was shrouded in a burlap sack. The judge was giving out his speech; all eyes were on him. However, he was almost finished speaking, meaning that everyone would look to Tituba when the judge gave the signal to the executioner. This would reveal the rescue. Mr. Peabody spotted a nearby plank- a spare piece left over from construction - and slipped it underneath Tituba's feet. Tituba noticed and went along with it.

Sherman noticed that the executioner was about to pull the lever to release the floor. He had to do something to buy Mr. Peabody more time! Sherman jumped out from the bush he was hiding behind and yelled, "Hey!"

Heads turned. They locked their eyes on Sherman.

_Sherman, no!_, Mr. Peabody thought, but he did not waste time despite the unplanned event. He untied Tituba's hands. She loosened the noose and escaped from the platform. She gave a hasty, "Thank you, thank you so much," and she was out of there, heading for the next town.

While Mr. Peabody was helping Tituba escape, some people had tackled Sherman and tied him up. "Now we can hang him along with the-"

They looked to where Tituba was supposed to be standing. "Oh! She must have escaped while we let our guards down."

The judge sniffed. "No matter! The boy will do…"

They prepared Sherman for hanging, in place of Tituba. Mr. Peabody couldn't save Sherman now! People were on the platform; it was too risky.

Mr. Peabody watched the whole process, frozen in horror.

He was going to watch Sherman DIE. HE WAS GOING TO-

**NO.**

NO, he was not going to watch his _SON_ die!

But it was too late. They pulled the lever at that very moment. The floor gave out…

_And the plank was still in place_. They didn't remove it!

Everyone was still and silent, waiting for something to happen. The executioner repeatedly moved the lever back and forth, confused.

This was Mr. Peabody's chance! He jumped onto the platform and removed the noose. He guided Sherman off the gallows, swiftly and safely. They ran as fast as they could, towards the WABAC. Mr. Peabody added some twists and turns in their course so that it was impossible to follow them in one direction.

He forced Sherman and himself into the time machine and they warped straight home.

When their heartbeats slowed enough so they could speak, Mr. Peabody asked, angry and worried, "Why did you do that?! I told you to stay put."

Sherman did not respond. He was quite distraught as well.

Of course, Mr. Peabody understood why Sherman had disobeyed him. He was a genius, after all…

Sherman bowed his head. "I-I had to," he said ashamedly.

"I could have handled it," Mr. Peabody said, putting Sherman's hands in his paws. Yes, he could have handled it, but it would have been much harder without a distraction. "I didn't want you to get involved, at any costs, because…" Mr. Peabody trailed off in thought. His eyes fell.

Should he dare call Sherman his son? Out loud? Mr. Peabody didn't feel like a father. It sounded so far-fetched to him. He regained his gaze with Sherman.

Sherman was looking into Mr. Peabody's eyes, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

Mr. Peabody said softly, "Because I love you too much. People put the ones they love before their own lives."

Sherman's worried frown turned into a simple, small smile. He let go of Mr. Peabody's paws and gave him a huge hug. "I love you too, Mr. Peabody."

Mr. Peabody returned the hug. He patted Sherman's back in the bliss of the moment.

Sherman was almost hanged… almost. He wasn't dead. Nobody was dead. After their crazy adventure, both of them were just glad that they had each other.


End file.
